Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story
by Rally Tonight
Summary: The true story of two teenage girls driving out to Cleveland, Ohio to see their favorite band, Tokio Hotel. A story of laughter, screams, and excitement, but ultimately an inspiration between my friend and I, and our insane adventure that we will always remember!
1. The first text

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

My friend and I plan to travel four hours by car to Cleveland, Ohio to see our favorite band, Tokio Hotel. The only thing is, we have to do it without our parents finding out! After selling a fake story about what we're doing and where the concert is held, we head off on what is expected to be one of the greatest ventures of our lives! This is a true story of laughter, screams, and fear, but ultimately, inspiration between me and one of my best friends, and our crazy adventure that we will always remember.

**AN: This story has only 10 chapters, and some are not very long due to this event's short, two-day time period and my slightly faded memory, but I assure you that everything will be as descriptive as possible. Some of the dialogue may be different because of the memory issue I just mentioned, but it will all be based off of what really happened. No additional scenes or dialogue will be added for dramatic purposes. I want to share what is true and only true. ****I understand**** this may not be a story that every Tokio Hotel fan might want to read, but I hope those who do will enjoy it. Maybe it will encourage others to write their true stories about their encounters with these four very talented boys.**

***My friends' names have been changed for privacy purposes. My name does not appear in the story because it is being told from my point of view. But for all those ones who are naturally curious out there, my name is Jea (pronounced jay-uh) Enjoy!**

By: Jea

Chapter 1

_The first text_

I was curled uncomfortably between the cold metal armrests of my seat when I awoke to a soft and familiar noise. Well-worn eyes scanning my environment, I sighed discontentedly. My friend Kate who I was traveling with sat in the middle chair in the section diagonal from me, already asleep. Even though I had flown on a plane probably near fifty times in my life, I never quite got used to the small, compact seating area in coach; I only liked it if I had a seat in first class. Being the daughter of a pilot, I was fortunate enough to have the privilege.

Over a hundred other passengers closely surrounded me, and the noise of the loud engine was heard from the outside. The plane had just taken flight, and this was my first chance in twenty-four hours to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

I looked down at my cell phone that was wrapped in my arm and resting on my folded knee, my angled bangs falling in front of my pale features. I had gotten a text message. The plane evidentially hadn't flown high enough for a phone to lose its reception. I flipped the small blue device open and saw it was from Isabel, my friend of seven long years.

dude tokio hotel is coming to ohio next month. its only a four hour drive. wanna go?

I could only say that I was shocked after I had read that message, though my exhausted body still sat stoic, void of emotion. The two of us had only known about the four foreign boys for a few months, but it had not taken long for us to become their die-hard fans. They were beautiful, I thought, inside and out, and seeing them in person was an opportunity that would be downright foolish to refuse.

I groggily jabbed a reply in my phone, but by then the plane was too high above the ground for the message to go through. I had no choice but to wait until I arrived at the airport in West Palm Beach. A flight from Atlanta to Florida was only about an hour to an hour and a half long, so even though I desperately wanted to let her know I wanted to go, I wasn't too upset. I needed to sleep anyway.

Unfortunately, the flight was horrible. It's damn near impossible to sleep comfortably in a chair cushioned out of pipe cleaners that only had enough room between the arm wrests for your hips and nothing else; no room for leaning, curling up your legs, nothing. I was pretty sure that that was why I kept waking up every ten minutes. Constantly falling asleep and waking made time pass by so slowly. I was only on the plane for a little over an hour, but it felt more like five or six. Luckily, thinking about what it would be like to see the boys in real life kept me from total nostalgia.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

After my little vacation to Florida was over, I returned home to New York and immediately brought up the subject of the concert with Isabel for more details. I was very curious to know how she planned on pulling this off. Surely our narrow-minded parents wouldn't approve of an eighteen-year-old girl taking a seventeen-year-old out of state to go to a concert for an alternative rock band.

She explained that she wanted to leave the day before the concert to take the time to tour around the area and find where the venue was and where we would park. Since neither of us were old enough to rent a hotel room, she claimed we would sleep in her car and then kill time until the concert the following day.

"That sounds like fun!" I exclaimed. I honestly thought that it did. It seemed sort of like a camping trip to me. She, on the other hand, thought it would be an inconvenience to sleep in her car, but felt it was definitely worth seeing the boys.

However, since her original plan was to go the concert alone, I wasn't too surprised when she said she was considering that again. I was disappointed, but I'm not the type of person who likes to get into arguments. I'm rather laid back. Besides, I had known her for a long time, and I knew that she wanted me to go with her more than she wanted to go alone.

* * *

I hope you guys like how it's going so far. But it's not an ordinary Tokio Hotel fanfic, and if you guys want me to post the whole thing so you don't have to wait until it gets to the concert, then I can. But let me know what you think of my writing and if you really want to read more! It would mean so much to me if people were interested in this. Oh, and feel free to write stories about your experiences with them! Whether it be a concert, a backstage meeting, a signing, or just running into them in an airport or on the street! Share the greatest day of your life with your fellow fans.

Oh, and **NO FLAMES!** There is a difference between them and "constructive critizism."


	2. Ready, Set, Go!

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 2

_Ready, Set, Go!_

On the morning of August tenth, perhaps around nine o'clock, I awoke to my mother walking into my room, calling my name. She told me that Isabel was on the phone. I was a little perplexed as to why she was calling on my home phone instead of my cell phone, especially this early in the morning during summer vacation when all the other teens in our time zone were still happily dreaming in their beds.

I took the phone from my mother and held it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hi...."

"What's up?"

"You remember how Tokio Hotel is coming to Cleveland tomorrow?" she asked. "Well, I thought about it more and I decided that I don't wanna go by my self, so do you wanna come?"

My eyes went wide. I was so tired that for a moment I had forgotten that the concert was the next day! I couldn't believe that she actually waited until the last minute to ask me if I wanted to go, but I was so grateful that I was able to let it slide. All I could think was, Oh my God, I'm gonna get to see Tokio Hotel!

"Yeah!" I answered excitedly–as if it wasn't obvious.

"OK, but I gotta see if they're still selling tickets online for it."

"I'll pay you back," I offered.

The first thing I did was ask my mother if I could go. The only problem was that both of our parents were very strict and would never let us drive all the way out to Cleveland for two days just to see a band that they didn't like. It really would have been no trouble for us at all, being adults (OK, I was turning eighteen the next month), but there was just no possible way that it would happen.

I had asked Isabel what I should say to my mom so we had the same story, and she gave me the name of a concert hall near the local airport, and told me to tell her we were going there tonight to meet the band at a signing and then spending the night at her place. We would go back to the show the next day.

When she called back, she said there were still printable tickets available off the internet. She told me that they cost twenty-five dollars, and I thought that it was much more than a fair deal. It could have been a hundred dollars and I wouldn't have cared.

"OK, I'll be there in a little while, so start getting ready," she said excitedly.

I wanted to literally jump into the air and shriek the moment I hung up the phone, but I refrained. I just smiled evilly and ran around my room, trying to gather my things. I felt so damn lucky to be heading on a road trip, just me and my friend, to see our favorite band.

I hastily got dressed in a short sleeved jacket and a skirt, and grabbed my overnight bag from my closet and started shoving it full of things like my purse, my phone charger, travel-sized toiletries, brushes, clips, and anything I could think of. However, I worried that having to scramble around to get ready to leave for two days on twenty minutes notice would lead me to forget some things.

My mom was consistently interrogating me about the concert, asking where exactly it was, what the band was called, why I was leaving a day early. Being in such a rush, I could only give her curt answers that were barely enough to satisfy her curiosity. Luckily it didn't take long for Isabel to show up and clear the confusion, though she didn't really need to. Everything she said was exactly what I had, but my mom needed more convincing.

After she reluctantly said it was alright for us to go, I grabbed all of the things I had packed, and Isabel and I headed out the garage and to her car. After I tossed my bag in the back with the rest of all her things, I sat in the passenger seat beside her and we were off!

The first part of the plan was done, and it was time for step two: GET THERE! Our plan was to head west to the edge of the state and then go south instead of just heading down south first off. We wanted to stay in our home state for as long as possible just in case we ran into some unexpected trouble.

I don't quite remember what it was that Isabel said that finally made it hit us that we were actually going to see the boys with our own eyes, see them sweat on stage and hear their music blare in our ears, but we just couldn't resist taking a moment to scream!

* * *

I hope this chapter still keeps you interested. I'm still considering whether or not I want to post the whole thing at once. I want to, but I don't think I'll get as many reviews if everyone can just keep going on to the next chapter, and I want to know what everybody thinks. I'll keep thinking about it and come up with a solution soon, but in the meantime, enjoy!


	3. Break Away

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 3

_Break Away_

It took two hours of driving to finally arrive in the state of Pennsylvania, and I was thrilled that we had slipped so far away from home. There was going to be no turning back no matter what happened. Deciding that we did not want to be trapped inside a small two-door Honda for four straight hours, we pulled inside a plaza bearing a large sign that read, "Kohl's," one of our favorite stores.

I stepped out of the car, my features already beaming with the rare thrill of what we had done, and what we planned to do. I was daydreaming about what it was going to be like when I was telling this story to my mother in a few years, and to my own children when they were grown.

The air was chilly, and the sun had long since disappeared behind the vast blanket of white-grey clouds. Though the pavement was wet with rain and scattered pools, the breeze smelled fresh with after-storm scent.

"It's pretty obvious that we're not from around here," Isabel declared as the two of us strolled through the parking lot.

"Really?" I asked curiously.

I hadn't realized it before, but some people from New York almost had their own way of doing things than other's when it came to the alternative culture, whether it was just bumming it or dressing up. Isabel had thrown on an oversized white wife beater and black shorts, and ballet flats. I had a distressed looking short sleeve zip-up, and converse with my skirt. Our hair, dyed black and blonde, was teased up and tousled, and small areas like our lips, eyebrows, and noses were pierced. I hadn't seen many other people dressed similarly to the two of us, but they were a little more neat and matched than we were.

"New Yorkers have their own thing," she explained.

Not long after we went inside and started looking around, my cell phone went off. Yanking it out of my bag, I looked at the screen and saw it was my mother. _Ohhh, here we go!_

"Where are you?" she asked me.

"Uh–ugh–hold on!" I stammered, making it sound as if I were fumbling with the phone. I turned to Isabel; she was faster at coming up with excuses than I was.

"Where are we?" I whispered, holding the phone away from my face.

"Just tell her we're in the bathroom at the concert hall. We're waiting for the band to come out."

It didn't take long to hang up with her after repeating what Isabel told me, and we were in the clear once again. I didn't like having to lie about the whole thing, but like I said, our parents weren't very open-minded.

I don't recall if Isabel bought anything, but I had picked out two tank tops. I thought of them as some of my little souvenirs from the trip.

After leaving the store–and being purposely splashed by Isabel who jumped into a rain puddle–we got back inside the car and continued on our way through the small tip of Pennsylvania we were passing through. Everything seemed to be going perfectly at that point, but I have to admit, neither of us were expecting all the things that were going to happen to us through the afternoon and well into night.

* * *

o0o0o0o.. little bit of suspense! Ok not really because the next chapter is posted, but I bet you're curious to read it. I hope you like the story so far!


	4. Monsoon

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 4

_Monsoon_

Isabel whipped out her Tokio Hotel CD and slipped it inside the player after taking out a different disc that had already been inside. "I was planning on saving this for tomorrow," she said, "but let's play it now."

I grinned. I secretly had the same idea as she did, but readily agreed to bend the rules just that once and listen to their music now. It would help us get even more excited for our big day–if that was even possible!

The music blared and we completely rocked out to every song and every lyric, driving for miles–right into a vicious rain storm. It was unbelievable how bad it was pouring, and to be honest, it nearly ruined our excitement. It was difficult to see sometimes, and it was lasting. I started to wonder if the weather was going to be the same all the way to Cleveland.

We were still singing to the lyrics, but we sounded more like: "Running through the monsoon–yeah, no shit!"

Eventually Isabel decided to accelerate her small red vehicle to see if we could outrun the storm, which, surprisingly, we did. But no sooner had she slowed to her original pace, the heavy rain began pelting at our windows again, creating that oh-so-dreaded noise. A few more times we outran the storm clouds chasing us relentlessly, only to be caught again and again.

After what seemed an eternity, the rain finally gave in and disappeared, but left telltale signs of its presence in its wake. The sky was left dull and monotonous, as if a vast cloud stretched to the horizons, and the roads and streets were drenched with water for miles.

As if that wasn't enough, once we had broken free from the storm, we were wrapped into the confines of an endless traffic jam. I had pretty much blocked that part of the trip out of my mind, so I don't recall how long it was before we finally broke free, but I do remember that for probably half of the time, Isabel and I were trying to figure out why the white car in front of us had the words "to punish and enslave" printed on the back of their trunk.

We eventually stopped at a rest stop and ran inside, stepping through puddles and avoiding the light drizzle–the last traces of the rain storm that had finally gone. The place was pretty crowded when we got there, with lines to every cash counter and bathroom. Isabel decided that she wanted to eat at the little Arby's that was inside, and I, never having eaten food from there before, agreed to give it a try. It took forever before it was our turn, and in that time we must have grown even hungrier because we ordered a lot.

"He's probably thinking, 'these two skinny girls are gonna eat all that?'" Isabel said to me, referring to the guy at the cash register.

After we sat down, I found that I wasn't too fond of what I was eating, but I still ate; I was starving and didn't known when our next chance to eat would be. Probably not until that night.

After we left and filled up the car with gas, we continued on our way. I remember being so excited when we finally neared Cleveland. We drove around in a very well-to-do neighborhood that wasn't too far from there, but soon drove into a lesser neighborhood as we drew closer. We stopped in a gas station to quickly buy some snacks to eat later on, but I don't think we ever did.

It was dark by the time we arrived, but it was a moment I would never forget.

"There's Cleveland!" Isabel said excitedly as we drove over a bridge that lead to the city that I was thrilled to finally see.

A beautiful sight it was. The silhouette of the soaring buildings was nearly invisible against the pitch black sky, but their bright lights could have been seen by anyone a mile away. I immediately whipped out my cell phone–I had gotten a new, much more expensive one after I got back from Florida–and took a picture of the distant city. To this day that picture remains safe and sound in my phone.

We were finally there!

* * *

Isn't our vacation interesting? Trust me, it gets better! Sorry the last few chapters were so short, but the next ones are longer. Fortunately, the longest by **far** is the one where the concert actually takes place. I know just know all you ToHo fans will love reading it! Oh, and feel free to leave reviews of your thoughts on the chapters!


	5. On The Edge

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 5

_On The Edge_

The small red car we had been imprisoned inside for hours finally crossed over the bridge to the terminus, and our urge for sightseeing approached before long. The land was so foreign to us; we did not have any idea what the town–which turned out to be a city–was like in comparison to our dwelling in New York. We wanted to become more acquainted with our new, twenty-four-hour home and come to be familiar with its attributes for mental guidance when traveling through. We were soon to find out that an electronic map system wasn't able to help with all our needs.

One of the first landmarks we passed was a beautiful pier–likely man-made from it's immaculate appearance–with a paved road protruding over a lake, lined with various cars parked in rows along either side, and tall trees separating land from water. We decided it would be a nice place to sleep after we found the House of Blues.

Isabel punched in the name of the venue into the G.P.S., and we were lead to its front doors within minutes. I remember hearing Isabel ask where it was as her eyes scanned the towering buildings on either side of us. I looked up from my lap and immediately saw it just a short distance away, off to our left; a tall, vertical blue sign with lit-up white letters spelling "HOUSE OF BLUES."

"There it is!" I yelled excitedly, pointing ahead like a small child. "It's right there!"

"Oh!" Isabel responded, feeling rather silly for having not seen it beforehand.

We pulled alongside the small building, squished between a clothing store and something else that I have forgotten, to get a better look. The front doors sat underneath the sign, and the sidewalk ran down the side of the buildings and turned into a wide alley lined with restaurants and small shops on either side. Surely the line of fans waiting to get inside the next afternoon would take up plenty of that space.

The venue didn't seem very large, which suggested it was going to be a place with just a stage and a dance floor. No assigned seats, just a crowd of screeching fans pushing forward to get as close to the band as they possible could. I had never been to a concert like that before, so it was going to be a new experience for me.

We were absolutely thrilled that the concert was less than a day away. In twenty-four hours exactly, we would be standing inside the building, crushed an unable to move, looking up at the four boys and screaming until our throats were in shreds.

Across the street from the opposite end of the alley was a pay-for-parking lot with plenty of space, and only a short walking distance from the House of Blues. It would be the perfect place to park before going to the concert.

After everything had been figured out and our plan had been established, Isabel, who had been doing alternative modeling for about a year, called a photographer in the area that she had gotten in touch with from back home to see if there was still time for a potential photo shoot. Unfortunately, she was told that there was not enough time, so she suggested that we attempt to find the pier to settle down for the night.

That began probably the worst and most nerve-wracking part of the trip. This area was completely foreign to us, and a G.P.S. can't help find landmarks such as piers. We couldn't find it, and it had been the only safe-looking place for us to crash. We weren't aware that Cleveland was a city that may have had some bad areas (not as bad as some may think, but still not too good)that we wouldn't feel were safe.

After driving around which may as well have been aimlessly for a significant amount of time, Isabel called numbers for local hotels. I forget where she got them. Maybe off of 411 or her G.P.S.. We called several places, but we were not allowed a room unless one of us was twenty-one, and a lot of them were far too expensive. She grew nervous and started to believe that we were completely screwed, but I already knew that we eventually would go with the original plan and stay in the car.

She finally called back the photographer who lived there and therefor was familiar with area, and he helped us into a safer neighborhood. Isabel started to get nervous from being on the phone with him while driving because she didn't want to get pulled over by a cop, but it turned out that it was legal to drive while talking on a cell phone in Ohio. We were surprised because the law against phones and driving was strictly enforced back home, and you would have to pay a fine if you were caught. We eventually found the Denny's that he was trying to lead us to, and we parked in the nearly empty parking lot underneath a tree.

I thought it was so much fun, and convenient since breakfast would be right there waiting for us when we woke up the next morning.

We pushed down the back of the two front seats so they lay nearly flat underneath us, similar to a bed.

Isabel complained that there was a hotel right next to the parking lot that said it only cost $59 a night (or something close to that), but I reminded her that they probably wouldn't let us have a room.

She pulled out a blanket that she had brought that was big enough to cover the both of us, and pulled out her laptop to play Zelda.

We were so excited. We reached the end of our first day, and were right on the edge to the next where we would run into the House of Blues and see the boys. We had been through so much already, so we knew that we definitely deserved to see them up close.

I called my boyfriend on my cell phone to keep myself entertained while she was busy, but ended up becoming involved when she asked him to find answers on how to win the game online. I don't recall exactly how it panned out, but it did not go well enough for her to continue the game for a long period of time.

I later struggled to talk to my boyfriend because Isabel, who had called _her_ boyfriend after putting away the game, and I continuously exchanged words with each other about speaking quietly so we could hear. Our conversations lasted for a while, but ended in parallel due to our waning abilities to stay awake. She slipped an episode of _Futurama_ into her laptop for us to watch, which did not last long at all as we slowly drifted into a well-deserved rest.

We were so close!

* * *

Crazy die-hard fans, aren't we? Well, the time of the concert is finally nearing! Lemme know what you think!!!


	6. Final Day

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 6

_Final Day_

I recall only vaguely, but I believe that both Isabel and I awoke at the same time the next morning, if not I waking to see her brown eyes, deprived of makeup, looking back at me. I believe it was a little after nine o' clock.

"Wow, we actually did it," she said surprisingly as she groggily pushed herself upright. "We made it."

My dreamy eyes welcomed the sunlight shining through the car with great warmth, and my skin chilled as the downy blanket slid off of my shoulders. I marveled at the bright morning for a moment, reveling in the irony of how the weather was a perfect reflection of how momentous the day was going to be.

I rubbed my eyes uncomfortably; I had forgotten to take my contacts out the night before as my mind was wondering and my energy fading, and the lack of moisture and air was irritating.

"Of course we did," I replied, wondering what on earth she thought would have happened. Whatever it was, I was glad that it didn't, and that Tokio Hotel was only several hours away.

After combing out our hair and putting on a bit of makeup, we stepped out of the car and headed inside the _Denny's_ for breakfast. It was satisfying to have a real breakfast after living on fast food the previous day, and knowing we would probably have to live on it for the rest of the day after this, also.

I pondered over the thought of if any of the people working inside knew that we came out of the car that had been parked there all night, or if any of them even knew that it had been there that whole time. Probably not.

We waited for a few minutes before we were seated, and immediately started skimming through the menu; we were starved! We decided on splitting one order between the two of us so as to save money. We had already spent some on gas and had taken turns buying fast food, and hoped that we would be able to buy a shirt or hoodie from the concert. Even with the split plan to cut our spending, it still looked like we were going to have to stop at an ATM to withdraw more.

After stuffing ourselves with some sort of create-your-own grand slam breakfast, we paid our bill and went into the bathroom to freshen ourselves up a little more.

"It's like we're homeless," I joked. "Except we have access to money."

Isabel tried texting Kate back home on my cell phone, but she wasn't used to using a small keyboard on a phone and couldn't quite get the spelling right. Some of her letters were repeated numerous times.

After taking the phone from her, we headed out to the car. If enough set-backs hadn't happened already, I realized that I had forgotten something in the midst of all my rushing around to pack in twenty minutes notice–clothes! I felt ridiculously stupid at that point. I packed everything but the most important thing–clothes!

Fortunately the two of us planned on visiting a mall that day since we had plenty of time to kill before we even had to go stand in line at the doors, and Isabel found out that her hair straightener that she'd packed wasn't in any of her bags. It looked as if we were going to have to stop at a Wal-Mart, too.

We both took money out of our accounts from a gas station because we were starting to run low, and headed straight for the nearest mall.

One thing that I will always remember is this little area that we drove through. I think it was called Rockside, or something like that. It was sort of like a little country area with winding roads through beautiful grassy hills and under tall green trees. Both Isabel and I thought it was very, very pretty. If I ever go back to Cleveland, I definitely want to visit there again.

When we got to the mall, Isabel called her younger sister back home and asked her if she knew where the straightener was. As it turned out, her sister had taken the straightener out of her bag to use it, and then never put it back.

"...so she basically screwed our hair," Isabel muttered angrily as we walked into the main area of the mall.

It was unfortunate yes, but we were heading home after the concert that night and we didn't look all that bad anyway. A little hair spray would do the trick.

I don't recall the mall being very large, but it was nice, and the colorful decorations and designs inside that really spruced the place up. They even had one of those things where you're put in a harness and you jump on a giant trampoline with two bungee cords attached to either side of your waist. I don't know what it's called, nor have I ever been on one, but it looked fun.

Isabel pointed ahead to a Hot Topic that we were headed for and said, "we're home!" and started laughing evilly.

A huge grin spread across my face. Hot Topic was one of our favorite stores, and I was definitely in the mood for some clothes shopping. I don't think she bought anything, and when I wanted to buy a cool top, she tried to entice me to put it back so I would be able to buy something at the concert. I really liked it. It was red-and-black stripped, with no sleeves, a hood, but no back. I just couldn't help it. Besides, I probably didn't have enough for anything at the concert anyway. I could buy some of their stuff when it went on the shelves at the mall back home.

She changed into one of her pairs of skinny jeans that she brought because she was tired of wearing the shorts that were covered by her oversized wife beater, and we looked around the mall a little more. We also headed to the Wal-Mart like we planned, and I got some extra things that I needed that I had forgotten at home. Isabel bought a cheap hair straightener that we could plug into an adaptor that she had for her car, but as the saying goes, you get what you pay for. I swear it didn't even work. But oh well.

It was about time for us to head back into the city and get a spot in the parking lot that we found the night before! I was starting to get so excited that I could barely contain myself, and I'm sure that Isabel was too. I was a little nervous about leaving the car alone in a city, but she assured me that it would be safe in a fenced in parking lot that costs money to use.

"You get what you pay for," she said.

There was still a while before we had to go wait in line, so we parked in a spot close to where the alley was with all the shops and restaurants and relaxed. Isabel put up a shield in front of the windshield so the interiors of the car would not get to hot, and pulled out her laptop to keep herself entertained.

I changed out of my clothes and into the very eccentric shirt that I bought from Hot Topic, which was a challenge since none of the other windows were blocked, and helped Isabel change into the floral patterned corset that she had brought.

After some time had passed, we both got out of the car and used the its windows as mirrors to fix our hair, teasing it up and making sure it was basically cemented that way with a shitload of hair spray.

We walked together through the alley and around the corner where the House of Blues was, and luckily, the line wasn't long at all. We were standing in front of the store beside it when we took our place. It felt so good to know that we would be one of the first groups of people inside.

There was little more than an hour before the doors were supposed to open, so all we had to do then was wait.

* * *

Yes, we gave ourselves a little tour while we killed time. The next chapter will be very fun to read, and very funny. My humor is pretty sarcastic. Keep on reading!


	7. Live Every Second

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 7

_Live Every Second_

We–or at least the people standing around the two of us–were practically counting the seconds until it was time for us to go inside, asking each other what time it was and mentally calculating how many minutes we had left of waiting. It didn't matter, though, because once we got inside we were still going to have to wait another hour before the concert started–and knowing concerts and their timing, probably a little longer.

The only thing that really bothered us, though, were the crazy teeny-boppers freaking out and wearing self-decorated shirts with Bill and Tom's names written all over them, and the words "Tokio Hotel" on the ass of their undersized shorts. It was almost painful to see that there were fourteen-year-old girls showing up as if they were going to a Backstreet Boys concert. I wanted so much to tell them that the boys would not think it was cute, and if they didn't believe me, they could look up the English lyrics to Fraunde Bleiden.

Then of course, there were the posers that every rock concert has. Girls standing in line wearing dark outfits that didn't look good and would never be seen on them on a normal day, and regular plain-Jane hair that they did nothing with to make their own.

"Ugh, stupid posers, leave my culture alone!" Isabel muttered angrily. "If you actually transform your whole body..."she opened her arms pointedly, referring to herself and her teased hair and the tattoos down her upper arms.

I just coked my hip and looked over to the girls one last time. I wasn't one to complain about things like that too often because I knew that it wouldn't change anything–not to mention that Isabel was usually there to speak for the both of us anyway.

Other than the overly excited children who probably thought they were going to see their future husbands in about two hours, there were plenty of other people standing around the two of us that were very pleasant to talk to. We didn't exactly start talking to anyone at first because we both kept going back and forth to the car to put away cell phones, or fix our hair, or get my ticket that I forgot in the car. Isabel called me a couple times while I was gone to ask me if I had gotten mugged.

There was a nice husband and wife couple standing right in front of us that we talked to for a while. They were not much older than we were. I forgot the girl's name–we'll call her Hazel–but her husband had gotten the tickets as a gift for her. Best. Husband. EVER! They said that they could tell we were from our area of New York because of a certain accent we had. I never noticed people talking differently than myself when I traveled, but they were not the first to have pointed it out to me, so they may have been onto something.

Hazel didn't dress "emo" or "punk" or whatever others preferred to call it, but at least she could admit that that wasn't her true self unlike some people. You did not have to be like Bill to like the band, for I myself liked other types of music besides alternative. Tokio Hotel could be fun to listen to even if they are not someone's preferred type of music, but if fans pretend that they are exactly like them when they're not, it's just irritating.

We told them about how I had just gotten my ticket the day before, and how we left without our parents knowing where we were really going and that we slept in Isabel's car the previous night. They were rather surprised.

"Wow, you guys are hardcore," the husband said to us. I personally wouldn't have gone as far as saying we were "hardcore." I was sure that there were other fans who had done things much more extreme than what we did, but it was a relief to know that people didn't think we were crazy for doing so.

As time went on, a few more waiting fans surrounding us eased their ways into our conversations. One of them was a man–probably a father of one of the fans nearby–who we found to be rather entertaining. He continuously pretended that he saw the boys and then yelled out, "OH MY GOD, THERE THEY ARE!" I found it hilarious because no matter how many times anyone repeated it, girls from behind us still turned to look for them! When a friend of his walked up and started talking to him, he yelled out, "There they are!" and when the girls turned to look again, he continued, "it's Tom!" I remember all of us completely losing it after that.

The people in the conversations continued to grow, even to the point where a cop along the street started talking to us. He joked that the man we were talking to had to clean up the remainder of his drink that he poured onto the sidewalk or else he would arrest him.

"I don't care if it'll melt and evaporate," Hazel's husband finished, making fun of, and imitating the officer. We laughed even harder.

I never would have guessed that standing in line for an hour could be so entertaining. Making every second count was the secret, I had come to find out.

As time grew shorter, a large man presumed to be one of the boys' managers or bodyguards, stepped out of the building and stood near Isabel and I, reading last names off of a piece of paper he held in his brawny hands. It was obvious that he was affiliated with the boys because of his German accent. He must have been reading a list of people who had backstage passes or a V.I.P. treatment, because when no one responded to the names he called, he looked around and said, "No one want to meet the boys?"

It immediately caught our attention and many of us perked up, saying, "What? WHAT?! I do!"

Of course he wouldn't be allowed to take anyone to meet them unless they were authorized to do so, so he walked back into the building and disappeared.

"Well, at least we know they're here," I said optimistically, though it was obvious. Where else would they be an hour before they had to perform?

When the doors finally opened, we all filed into the building as fast as we could. Isabel and I walked into a room with a counter in front of us and many Tokio Hotel clothes in the glass display behind them. There was another just like it off to the right.

We decided that if we wanted anything, we would get it after the concert. We immediately ran right past them and into the venue where the stage was. The floor in front of it was sizable, and there was a large balcony above for more fans and probably parents who didn't want to go into the snake pit that the floor would become.

The two of us didn't start out in front at first, but we were close.

I could hardly wait!

* * *

Ok, the next chapter is what you've all been waiting for! The concert was absolutely amazing, and I wrote a **lot** about it, so go and READ!!!

P.S. I mean no offense to the Backstreet Boys in case any of you were wondering, lol! I was actually a big fan of theirs back in the day and even went to one of their concerts, which happened to be my first.


	8. Scream

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 8

_Scream_

Of course, my prediction of timing when it came to concerts was accurate, because we waited for longer than just an hour. Maybe an extra twenty minutes, but when you're thinking that every second that goes by, a voice should come over the speakers and announce the presence of a band that you had been waiting so long for, time goes by much slower. I started to grow tired of standing even before the concert had started, and grew weary of the fact that I might become completely exhausted and unable to stabilize myself beside Isabel during the show, and my small skinny frame would become lost in the frantic crowd.

Music blared through the speakers to keep us entertained while we waited, but its sound was nearly lost among the voices echoing throughout the small building. Only once did it occur that a popular song came through the speakers and grasped the impatient fans' attention, swaying nearly half of them to sing along.

It sort of annoyed me that there were parents of the fans squished in the crowd with us, because I knew that they would be complaining and screaming to security to help free them from the chaos once the show began. One particular mother was very cocky when it came to the situation. Isabel explained to her that once the band appeared on stage, everyone was going to jerk forward and constrict together even more severely to be as close to them as possible.

"Oh, they _better_ not!" the mom said almost threateningly.

All I could think was, _All right lady, don't think that this crowd isn't going to do what they are gonna do just because you forbid it. It doesn't work that way. If you don't want to get caught in this mess, then you better head for the balcony where there is more room._

She unfortunately continued to annoy the hell out of me when she began complaining about the fans chanting the band's name over and over when it came closer to show time. "They're going to come whether you chant or _not!_"

_Duh! We're not stupid you ass, but they're excited and they can chant whenever they damn well please!_

It was already made crystal clear that she didn't want to be there, but since she made the decision to stay in the crowd and not venture to the balcony where she would be safer, she needed to lighten up and stop ruining the experience for everyone!

Finally, a voice came over the speakers. The moment we had been waiting for was coming! I don't remember exactly what he said, but he was definitely introducing the band to us and starting the show. The screams grew louder, as if to deliberately pierce my eardrums. I had been wondering when that sensation was going to hit me.

The lights dimmed into complete darkness. The only things that could be seen were the lights given off from the screens of digital cameras being held above our heads. The screams amplified. Three taps onto the symbols of a drum set echoed, and the lights above the stage flashed in unison with the music blaring into my ears.

The very first thing I saw, a longing stare in my hazel eyes, was Bill Kaulitz, a huge grin spread across his beautifully chiseled features, his raven hair spiked and throbbing slightly with his pulsating movements, his hand held out and fingers strumming an invisible guitar. The sound of my scream was lost in the roar of the exhilarated crowd.

I stood on my toes and turned to my left where I saw Georg, intensely holding his ground behind two speakers in front of Isabel and myself, his fingers rapidly strumming at his bass guitar. In my own eyes, he appeared to look even more attractive in real life than in photographs or videos.

_And Gustav is way in the back_, I thought to myself as I continued scanning the stage.

_And Tom is...way over there,_ I finished as I spotted him off to the left, a triumphant grin on my face. I had seen them all. Me. A young, ordinary girl from New York, who up until then only had the pleasure of seeing the desired boys in pictures and videos, had the rare privilege of seeing them with my own two eyes.

_All right, now back to Billy._

I had to strain my ears to hear him sing above the shrill screams, but I adjusted, his angelic voice carrying soulfully throughout the room. His body moved rhythmically with the upbeat tone of their song, _Break Away_–their first song of the night.

Georg stepped up to the very edge of the stage as one of his solos approached, and he leaned back and balanced the guitar on his widespread knees. The shrill noise from the fans amplified until my ears threatened to shatter, and he spread a narcissistic smirk across his face as he appeared to bask in the desperate cries from his fans.

Bill was so tall and slim, and his skin, shining under the celestial lights, was pale and utterly flawless. His dark makeup ringed his brown eyes, and his hair glistened like black satin. He was a beautiful creature, potentially the most amazing and stunning to ever walk the earth–and there was two of him!

His brother, his twin, came to the center of the stage and stepped in front of us, playing his guitar. He wasn't as tall, but he was just as alluring, and his face mirrored his brother's incisively. I was never fond of dread locks, but on him they were so tempting. Though I had always been picky and he wasn't my sort, I couldn't deny him. His head nodded with the rhythm of his music, and his slender frame was lost in the voluminous folds of his clothes.

When the band had finished their second song, the title of which I have forgotten, Bill compliantly removed his leather jacket to reveal a black shirt with a shining golden image that, to me, resembled a butterfly. His jeans, stark black and loose around his long, slender legs, had two zippers instead of only one.

"How are you all doing tonight?" he breathed heavily into his microphone. The fans responded with screams, jumping and shaking uncontrollably.

"This is our first time," he continued, his gentle voice and noticeable accent so adorable, "tonight...in CLEVELAND!"

More screams. I was sure that were going to be a lot of dysfunctional ears and vocal cords among teenaged girls that night in Cleveland.

He promised they would return to Cleveland someday, but it was questionable since a lot of bands probably claimed that they will return to wherever they are. However, if he was speaking the truth, I would be there in a heartbeat.

Before I had even realized it, Isabel and I had both meandered our way through the tightly clenched crowd and stood at the very front. There was an isle approximately three feet wide between us and the stage where security guards stood monotonously to protect the boys, and to help release any fans trapped and suffocating within our restricted confines. My tiny body was forcefully pressed against Isabel's from behind her, pushing her into the metal rail. My hip bones dug ruthlessly into her back–as if she wasn't having enough trouble breathing already with the authentic corset laced around her narrow torso.

"It's a little hot in here tonight," I recall Bill announcing that night as he held a water bottle above his head, "would you like some water?"

That moment was probably the loudest that the fans had screamed that night. I wanted that water! Even if it was only a little. He threw some of it over the crowd, but I only received a small droplet on my feverish face.

I was still so overwhelmed to be where I was. The very boys that I had grown to love over time were standing only five feet in front of me, and millions of other girls would have been wishing they were _me_ at that moment! Normally when someone becomes a fan of a group, it's years before they ever have the opportunity to see them in real life, and some don't ever get to see them at all. But me–I was privileged enough to be brought to them after just two short months.

Bill, his saintly voice still haling through the room, sauntered his way towards our side of the stage, again captivating my attention. Even from our short distance apart it appeared as if he were looking right at me, but I knew that Isabel, standing right in front of me, had to be the lucky one. He leaned forward over the stage and locked his gaze with her's, and his brown eyes, I swear, glistened like fine glass. It was mesmerizing. Tantalizing. My eyes never wavered from his. She smiled sweetly at him after a moment, and he responded with a small smirk before walking back to the center of the stage. She turned to me with a look of exhilaration.

I knew that I would never have another experience like this in my life, but it may have been a little better if the bitch next to me would have stopped stretching her arm in front of my face. I was aware that it was a tight squeeze inside the crowd and the average fan's personal space was little to nothing, but I at least had the decency to be sure that I wasn't selfishly annoying anyone. I dealt with it for a while, but I continued to grow increasingly irritated and finally pushed her arm out of my way.

"Stop pushing me!" she shouted rudely.

I wanted to yell back, but she definitely was not worth it. I came to enjoy the show and see the boys. Besides, she knew she was being annoying, she just didn't care, and she definitely became less of a crowd favorite when she did the same thing to a poor small woman standing in front of her, clearly not happy with the situation she was in.

"Get you're hand out of my face!" she scolded bravely.

"Where do you want me to put it?!" the Bitch retaliated again.

_Hold on! Did you seriously just say that you're authorized to annoy her and get in her way because you can't stop raising your hand to someone who isn't even close to reaching you? Didn't think so, and to answer you're question, keep 'em to yourself, dumb ass._

Bill was an amazing performer just as he always was, dancing in his own adorable way and singing his heart out. It was so beautiful, almost apparitional, but it disappointed me that some of his "fans" didn't feel the same way.

"He didn't even pull his shirt up!" a girl standing behind me yelled. "What the hell?"

_Are you serious, now? The one and only Bill Kaulitz is standing in front of you right now doing what he does best, and you're pissed off because he didn't reveal himself to you? Well if that's all you came for then just go home because you're definitely no fan of his._

It would have been fun if he had teased us with his well-toned physique like he had done at other concerts prior to this, but I definitely wasn't about to get angry just because he didn't this time. I was far too happy to let it upset me.

He interacted with us now and again, touching our hands and holding the microphone in the air so we could fill in the lyrics for him. After asking how we felt, he held out the microphone and we screamed back to him, but he twisted his face in a disappointed expression and wavered his hand, held out flat, like a see-saw. Apparently we could have done better in his opinion.

_Aww, come on, Billy, don't hate!_ I thought to myself as the crowd released moans of grief.

Aside from being fortunate enough to see the human side of Bill Kaulitz instead of just his rock star self in videos, I have to say that the greatest memory of the night that both Isabel and I shared dearly was something so inspiring that Bill said to us. It was irritating to hear some of the fans scream out randomly while the rest were trying to stay quiet to listen to him speak, but I faithfully hung onto his every word.

"Sometimes," his soft voice began, breathless, "there are situations in life where you don't really know how to carry on. But let me tell you one thing: whatever happens...believe in you...believe in life...believe in tomorrow...and don't jump."

The noise from the crowd again erupted into ear-shattering screams as they realized what their next song was going to be, but I remained silent.

It may have just been a monologue that he used to introduce his next song, but maybe that wasn't all it was. Maybe it was also a message from his heart.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

"I have some bad news," he finally said after more of their songs had come and gone. "This is our last song for tonight."

He made a nervous face as his eyes looked about the crowd yelling out objections and insisting that the night never end. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen. I felt a little disappointed that the concert seemed to be over so soon, but at least I knew that I would be free from the ruthless grasp of the crowd soon.

I sadly don't recall what the song following that statement was, but when it was over, he and the rest of the band almost immediately ran backstage. The strange thing was, the lights in the room did not illuminate, and no one seemed to be in any hurry to go anywhere other than closer to the stage. I began to wonder if whether or not what Bill had said was true. The funny thing though, was that I could swear that the crowd was chanting, "we love Germans! We love Germans!"

As I should have known, the four of them returned to the stage one by one, Tom and Georg taking their places on wooden stools placed in their spots by the stage crew and being handed acoustic guitars. The little devil lied! The concert wasn't over! Oh, how I wanted so much to get him for that!

The beautiful, raven-haired boy returned to the stage, singing softly into his microphone. "_This used to be a secret, but now I'm hiding here alone..."_

It took virtually no time at all for the rest of us to pick up the lyrics and sing with him.

When he finished and the lights dimmed again, none of us were expecting the surprise that the boys had for us next. The rhythmic count from the symbols sounded again, one final time, and the gentle beat of _Monsoon_ began to play–again? No...it couldn't be...

"_Das fenster öffnet sich nicht mehr, hier drin ist es voll von dir - und leer..."_

I was almost literally breathless as I looked up at him walking along the stage, singing to us their _original_ hit single that was likely the most well-known and popular song of the German language in the country. I sang to the words that I knew well, and was pleased that a lot of the other fans knew some too. That song was probably the one out of the whole show where Bill let us help him with the most; he must have been curious to find out how much of the foreign lyrics we knew. I knew it fairly well, but it was Isabel who knew every single word (right down to the correct pronunciations) by heart.

When the song ended, I knew for sure that it marked the end of the night, but I was content with that. Of course I wanted to stay with them longer–_forever_–but I was exhausted and suppressed, and we had a long, tiresome drive home.

Bill thanked us one last time for coming to see them that night. I wanted so much to yell out, "your welcome!" but I knew, in despair, he wouldn't hear me. He pulled the small white towel from around his neck and threw it to the back of the crowd, as did his brother Tom, and Gustav. The fans continued to applaud and scream as the boys threw more of their possessions into the crowd–water, the bottles, the drumsticks–everything except the instruments!

I felt that much longed for sensation of relief when the lights brightened the room once again. The crowd loosened and slowly began to break apart as they turned and started towards the foyer where the souvenir stands still waited.

Before Isabel and I reached the outdoors, we made a promise to each other that we would one day see them again. We hoped it would be in a town closer to our home so we wouldn't have to lie our way into another ludicrous adventure. I had also promised I would help her pay for gas the next time.

I looked around at the merchandise being sold, but was sad to see that I did not have enough money with me to afford any of it. It was disappointing, but I was also a little relieved that I wasn't going to have to stand in any of the ridiculously long lines.

We finally stepped outside where the warm midnight air brought relief to my stifled lungs, crowds of frenzied teenaged girls lining the traffic-filled streets, their voices carrying far down the block. It took a moment for Isabel and I to gather ourselves together and find words to say to each other that could only vaguely describe how we felt; we were nearly in tears.

When she began to think more clearly, she realized that the band would be leaving through the back of the building where we had been earlier that day, asking the staff about parking places. If we hurried, we would be able to see them before they left.

I sprinted around to the back–as soon as I was able to remember where it was–and she followed alongside. We had to see them one last time that night–for _that_ night. It wasn't goodbye forever.

* * *

**There are still more chapters. **The next one talks about the boys coming out of the building after the show, and a Tokio Hotel-related story I end up telling to Isabel for staying-awake purposes.

Anyway, there you have it. The concert. Yes, it was so much fun and the best night of my life. They were gorgeous, and there is absolutely nothing like seeing them in real life only five feet in front of you. It's unreal. Anyway, I **REALLY** want to know what you all think of this chapter so **LEAVE REVIEWS!!!** And read the rest of the story. It's interesting, and the end has a little surprise twist. It's funny.


	9. Sacred

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 9

_Sacred_

A large garage sat placed in the back of the venue, spacious and void of anything except for a black-and-grey tour bus parked inside. A paved road lead from the garage and between two multistory brick buildings where we and near sixty other fans stood impatiently, waiting for the boys to come out from inside.

The security guard that Isabel and I had conversed with a number of times throughout the concert stood in the center of the unmarked street, between us and the garage, watching both raving groups on either side of the road for any rogue females who dared attempt to move closer. One girl tried to run towards the building, but it was obvious that she was not serious. The man blocked her path regardless, and chuckled.

Isabel turned to me and asked if her makeup had smudged or smeared during the concert, and if her hair still looked somewhat similar to the way it did when we first entered the venue. She had only a small spot underneath the outside corner of her left eye, which I wiped away with a rub of my thumb. I asked her if there was anything insubstantial about my own appearance, but her report came clean. I knew, however, that my extensions had suffered terribly in the midst of the pushing, shoving, and sweat, and would likely have to be replaced.

"Oh my God, THERE THEY ARE!" yelled a girl standing across from us in the crowd opposite from ours. This time, it was true.

The four of them had already walked out of the building, and were casually making their way to their bus. Bill, to me, seemed to stand out the most. His raven hair still held perfectly in place, and his hands were comfortably tucked inside the pockets of his black leather jacket.

They were lucky that they had gotten into their tour bus when they did, because a large crowd of fans, similar in size to the group Isabel and I were standing in, came rushing through another alley directly beside the garage. If they had arrived just a few seconds sooner, they would have been able to run right inside and tackle all of them in a moment; there was no security guarding in front of the bus.

The large engine revved and the headlights flashed. The screaming continued as the massive vehicle drew closer, both in excitement and in anguish. The boys were close, but were soon to be so far away. My eyes shot up towards a high window that peered inside the bus, hoping to spot an angel looking out and waving goodbye. I saw nothing, but joined the other girls, including Isabel, in running my fingers along the side of the bus as it slowly passed by.

It was so difficult to understand what had happened that night after the bus had turned down the street and disappeared from sight, much less cope with the fact that they were now gone. I released a heavy sigh and dropped my shoulders contentedly, so proud but yet so sad.

Isabel and I started down the back road in the opposite direction from where the boys had gone, the area void of anyone except for the two of us. As we began raving about anything we could remember that had happened at the concert, joyful tears began to stream down her face. I wanted to cry, I could feel the urge rising inside of me, but I was numb from what had happened. We were both so emotionally touched that we couldn't take it in.

I persisted to tell her not to cry, though I could still feel the urge inside me desperately trying to manifest. It was as if my emotions were savagely thrashing at each other, fighting for dominance over my body. When neither one–shock or exhilaration–could win, I just felt numb.

When we reached the car and plopped down inside, I called my friend, Kate, the one that had traveled to Florida with me, on my cell phone to tell her how unbelievable the concert was. The unmistakable sound of Isabel still crying lingered in the background. I feared that I might have scared Kate a little with my rambling and my trembling voice, but she was able to understand.

She then surprised me with news of her own–she got her tongue pierced! I was surprised that she had done so because it was initially my idea to get a pierced tongue in the first place, and we both had wanted to go together. I was still far too beside myself to focus on it for long, though.

Kate told me that she wished she could have been there and was sad that we had not taken her, but I was almost sure that it wouldn't have been as fun traveling with a friend who was suffering from a mild case of mono!

When I informed Isabel of what Kate had done, she promptly began to voice her consideration of getting her tongue pierced, too. Ah, the Three Musketeers, we were.

It wasn't until the car was on the road when my emotions finally gave way.

"It's like...people always told me I could never do anything," Isabel bawled as she along the express way, referring to what Bill had said before he sang _Don't Jump._

That was when my tears released and ran down my face, allegedly smearing my makeup around my eyes. I had felt the exact same way as she had through my whole lifetime, which I believe has been one of the reasons as to why we've remained such good friends over the years. What Bill said was the undeniable truth.

"I mean, look at what I've done so far!" she continued, referring to her rapidly rising modeling career.

"My whole life," I cried out, warm tears streaming, "I've believed I could never make it because people always said I couldn't!"

"Don't!" she demanded, likely struggling to see the road through her clouded vision.

Still when Isabel and I were in near hysterics, my boyfriend decided to call. Bad timing, I thought, but I had to answer. Needless to say I had to explain to him why my voice was shaky and why my friend could be heard whimpering in the background.

"Come on, tell me about it!" he begged me, curious to know how the night went for some reason still unknown to me.

I had grown frustrated with trying to fend off the questions being thrown at me, and reluctantly decided to give him the truth. "Look, I don't think you want to sit there and listen to me talk about how _hot_ they were, OK?"

His probing ceased after that, and I was unstrained. If I had known that all I had to do was snap at him, I would have done it first off. Officially tuckered out and still unable to speak properly, I said goodnight and put away my phone, laying back in my seat to feign relaxation.

"It's going to be too late by the time we get home for me to go to my house," I said definitively, "so I'll just spend the night at your place." I thought it would be fun–not to mention healthy!–for us to have a little more time to let all of our remaining thoughts and hysteria out of our systems.

"Yeah," she agreed. "I'll set up the air mattress in the basement and we can _pass the fuck out!_"

It sounded like a perfect idea to me; I wanted to get home and sleep as soon as possible. I was beat–and _hungry_. We decided we would get some food on the way.

After the two of us had calmed down a little and were able to regain a little bit of our composure, we engaged in a game of imitating the things that Bill said in his adorable foreign accent that made me melt.

"Clevelant!" we yelled, mimicking the way he made the "t" sound at the end of a word that had the "d" sound. "We are coming back to Clevelant!"

"Thank you!" I yelled, in more of a faint "oh" sound instead of the original ending "oo" sound.

"I haf some bat news..." Isabel laughed, barely able to contain herself.

"This is our last song for too-night!" I finished, bursting out in laughter with her.

I had a feeling we would be doing this for the next few days.

After Isabel had changed out of her corset at some point that has escaped my memory–perhaps after we had gotten into the car–we stopped at a McDonald's down the road and immediately sprinted inside to the bathroom for a much needed break, to replace our faded makeup, and to comb the knots from our tortured hair. I was content to see that my extensions did not appear to look as raveled as I thought they would.

I met Isabel in the line in front of the counter, her eyes sparkling as they stared up at the menu. She was hungry, and so was I.

I felt sorry for the poor workers who had to stay at this place until God knows what time in the morning, but odds were I was much more exhausted then any of them were.

I have forgotten much of what we had talked about after we had sat down to eat, but I do recall that Isabel told me about when she had gone to Warped Tour a few weeks before and had met with Sonny Moore, the singer from the now broken-up band From First To Last. She had met him two years before at the same tour, even grew intimate with him, but hadn't seen him since then. When he had caught a glimpse of her in the crowd, he approached her from behind and rejoiced in seeing her again. She said she wanted to take me to meet him next year, which I still hope is a possibility.

After we left, our stomachs filled once again with fast food and probably growing sick of it, we continued our drive home with no further distractions or plans of stopping. Those plans also specifically included not crashing into anything or anyone, because Isabel was growing tired and worrying about staying awake.

She randomly tried to beat-box to keep herself aware, but it failed.

"Tell me a story!" she said as she perked up. "About Billy!"

"Um...OK." I was unsure of where to start. I was exceptionally tired myself, and was now faced with the burden of evoking a plot to a short romance story, and then narrating it.

"I'll give you the plot to help you get started."

_Thank you, Lord_.

I don't recall exactly what terms she gave me, but she suggested a story of a hotel theme, me simply out of the picture, Bill finding her, and a thunderstorm. Some she may have suggested, some may have been added in by me, but either way, it was enough for me to work with.

"Um..." I still pondered over where to begin. I needed more time.

"Do you want me to beat-box while you think?" she suggested.

"Yes!" I answered eagerly, sitting up in my chair. Though noise in the background normally interfered when another had to think, it certainly helped take away the pressure that silence normally welcomed. I didn't have to focus on the fact that she was anticipating a story; she was occupied with something else.

I sat quietly and formed a plot in my head, thinking of words to match the images appearing in my mind. It took only a few minutes, and I had done it. I had a story. Surely she would stay awake at least long enough for us to reach her house.

"OK, I've got it!" I exclaimed, sitting up in my chair.

"OK, go!"

I cleared my throat and began explaining the setting of a decent hotel, it's windows pelted by heavy rainfall, and recurring thunder thriving in the sky late at midnight hour. I was downstairs sitting in the lobby feigning entertainment on my laptop while she was on her way back to the room to change for the night. As she turned to the door to our room, she noticed a dark figure in the hall walking towards her, and reflexively looked to see who it was.

It was Bill.

He stopped when he saw her; a pretty girl alone and gazing at him in awe. With a few soft words and an arch of his pierced brow, he invited himself into her room to keep her company until the horrific storm passed.

Isabel was already squealing with glee as I narrated, eagerly anticipating what was going to happen next. She had already forgotten how tired she was, and was probably more awake than she had been in years. I wanted the lucky girl in the story to be me, but for the sake of keeping her alive, I continued. Besides, I had some very tempting ideas already in mind.

Proceeding, I described Isabel stepping towards the sliding glass window to the balcony as the vicious storm caught her eyes, Bill stepping up beside her to view it himself. An unusually _loud_ boom of thunder clapped in the sky–

"–and you flinched, inadvertently shifting closer to him. He takes your hand and says, "It's alright, don' be scaredt."

Isabel squealed again and nearly leaped out of her seat as she flailed excitedly. I grinned triumphantly. I thought that that idea was absolutely adorable, and possibly something that Bill would actually do if he really was the sweetie he made himself out to be.

I also thought it was great fun to imitate his adorable accent. The "t" sound at the end of a word instead of the "d" sound was definitely one of our favorites.

It eventually progressed into passionate kissing and fornication in the hotel bed, but I will leave that description for another day. All that mattered was that both of us were well awake and with enough newfound energy to last us until we got home.

* * *

Well was that a good post-concert celebration or what? There's still a little more to the story, but don't worry. The band and show are still mentioned throughout the rest of the story. You won't be bored. I really hope you have enjoyed it so far.


	10. By Your Side

**Tokio Hotel in Cleveland: A True Story**

Chapter 10

_By Your Side_

We finally arrived in our cozy little town in New York, and I was eagerly looking forward to having an intimate twenty-four-hour relationship with the air mattress. I was beat.

We had parked on a neighborhood road get all our stuff strewn about in the back seat situated and organized. I had accidentally dropped my expensive new Tilt phone with full keyboard on the pavement, and now it has tiny dent marks around it's edges to remind me of that eventful night.

We quietly stepped inside her house and I went down into the basement while she went upstairs to bring down blankets and pajamas for me to borrow. She said that her dog would start barking if she recognized anyone outside of the family coming up the stairs, and she didn't want to wake the entire house.

After she had come back down and we had changed and settled in to sleep, we continued our ever-so-fun game of mimicking Bill's accent and talking how amazing the concert was–oh, and how gorgeous they were. We had watched _Fresh Prince_ on the large flat screen TV, and Family _Guy_ on her laptop once again for a short while, and then, _finally_, we both fell asleep.

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

I heard Isabel nervously call out my name the next morning. At first I thought it was my mother and almost decided to just lay perfectly still and feign sleep. But I remembered the previous night and realized it had to be Isabel calling, and I emerged from the covers sprawled over me.

"Oh, there you are!" she said as I rubbed my eyes. I had left my contacts again in the night before and my eyes were bothering me.

"Yeah," I grunted tiredly.

"I didn't see you there," she explained. "I thought, _did my mom take her to the barn?_" she continued, referring to the local stable. We both liked ridding horses, and used to go together all the time.

I had groggily gotten up and gathered all of my stuff scattered over the floor, thanking her for taking me alongside her on this most unbelievable and absolutely fun adventure. I couldn't wait to tell my mom about it in a few years, and then my children when they were about my age.

We got into her car–our home-away-from-home–and she drove me to where I worked so I could pick up my paycheck, and then she took me to my house only a mile away from there. I don't recall what time I arrived home, but I called my mom at her work to let her know I was back safe and sound just like I had promised.

I was sure that it was a successful mission.

The following morning when I woke up, I arose and went into the computer room like I always did, but found a bright orange sticky note left from my mom on the top right corner of the computer that read, "So how was Cleveland?"

I grinned and chuckled to myself.

**THE END**

* * *

**Stay tuned for the epilogue!**

Well, that's our story! I hope you had a good time reading about it, cuz I sure had a great time writting it! Feel free to write you're stories about your experiences with Tokio Hotel. Whether it's a concert, a signing, a VIP backstage visit, or just happening to run into them at the mall or airport. It's a lot of fun to write about it, and you'll always have those precious memories of the best day of your life stored away for you to look at anytime. Leave your final review and tell me what you think!

Danke!!!

_Started: December 25, 2008; time unknown._

_Finished: January 29, 2009; 11:32 pm._


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Isabel and I are still so proud that we were able to see these talented and–let's face it–gorgeous boys!

Since then, she had gotten their band symbol tattooed on the inside of her right ankle. I myself plan on getting a tattoo in honor of them. I was considering their symbol with the angel wings on my lower back with the date of the concert above the symbol, between the wings.

Her parents still have yet to find out the truth about where we were and what we did when we went to the concert, but my mom had found out when she looked up the band on the internet and found where their next show was taking place, and seeing on my bank records that I had withdrawn money from an ATM in Ohio. I sort of worried that she might find out, but once I was pulled out of our driveway, it didn't matter.

As much as my mom wanted to get mad at me, she couldn't. When she told my older cousin and her husband about it, they thought it was funny. And when my other older cousin heard about it, she gave me a high-five!

It was the most priceless ending to the most priceless vacation, and I'll never forget it. Especially now that I have my most precious memories written for me to look at anytime. It changed my view on life, because sometimes things would happen and I would have horrible moments where I would think that there was no hope, or that I was heading nowhere, or that there was nothing I could do to fix it. But I know better now. If a ten-year-old boy from Germany can work hard enough to become an international star before he turns twenty, then I'm sure that he knows what he's talking about when he tells us to never give up. I've already started on improving my life and my future, and I'm not giving up on it.

I can't wait to see them again!


End file.
